


Oh, Shit

by auricale



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Blackwatch Era, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Miscellaneous Other Characters - Freeform, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auricale/pseuds/auricale
Summary: "I trust you, Jesse," Reyes says, "with my life. And, I don't want you to ever feel that your trust in me is misplaced. As soon as I know anything else about this situation; I will tell you."—Two events between two people who trust each other indefinitely, and when they each realized, "oh, shit, that's what that feeling is."





	

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know why i struggled so much with this day alsdjflks but it's DONE and i DID IT so there's that.

Reyes is in the middle of a hushed talk with Amari and Reinhardt, their heads bent low across the table of a vacant meeting room, a datapad's blue glow touching the underside of their faces.

Jesse sees this when he enters, takes in each of them and their hunched positions, his brain hardwired to catalogue potential threats.

The three people already in the room turn to Jesse, all but one face showing surprise and confusion at his sudden entrance.

"This," Jesse says, jaw clenched as he throws the handful of files he'd been holding down onto the table, "is _fucked_ _up_."

Jesse had already held his anger while he'd searched for Reyes, keeping his tone even and respectful as he tracked down the Blackwatch Commander by word of mouth, so he forgets to watch himself now.

"Agent!" Reyes reprimands, already stalking towards Jesse. Reyes scoops up the files and bodily maneuvers Jesse out of the room along with himself.

"No, _Boss_ , this ain't right," Jesse hisses, loud enough for it to echo in the small hallway as he snatches the files back from Reyes hands. "There were _kids_."

" _McCree_."

The motorized door hisses shut behind Reyes as he says this, effectively blocking out Amari and Reinhardt from the conversation.

Jesse notices the circles under his commander's eyes, the tension held in his shoulders — wonders briefly what the conversation that was happening in the other room was about, before the files in his hands remind him why he's here.

" _This_ ," Jesse says, tapping the corners of the manila folders into Reyes chest, "isn't what I... You told me we were going to do _good_ — that... that we were going to fight against this sort of shit happening."

Jesse flips one of the folders open, turns the files to Reyes, then points to the picture that had kept Jesse from awake last night.

" _Twelve_ ," Jesse spits, "the kid was _twelve years old_."

Reyes remains stoic, his arms crossed, his mouth set in a firm line, and his eyes locked with Jesse's.

Jesse lifts the files up, shoving the photo of the smiling twelve year-old into Reyes' field of view.

There's a stretch of silence, where Jesse worries he's not going to get any sort of reaction or explanation from his commander.

Then, "He was running weapons for the organization."

"That... that's it?" Jesse scoffs, lowering the files — watching Reyes avoid his gaze. "Ten years ago, this was _me_."

Jesse waits for Reyes to come out with it, tell Jesse the _real_ reason — or tell him that the kid was actually alive, in WitSec or something, going to live out the rest of his childhood in a peaceful suburb with some fake-blonde mom and an overbearing father and a golden retriever.

But Reyes stays silent.

"Fuck," Jesse breathes, realization finally hitting him. "Fuck," he repeats, before letting out a breathy laugh, at a loss for what else to do.

Jesse looks down at the files in his hands, sees the kid's fat rosy cheeks and thinks of how he could've been in the kid's place, getting killed in some godforsaken warehouse for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He looks back up at Reyes, watches the man he admires stay silent. "You really pulled the wool over my eyes, huh? God, and to think," Jesse snorts, snapping the folder shut. "I trusted you."

Jesse thrusts the files into Reyes' chest, not caring whether his commander grabs them or lets them fall to the floor as he hurries off, blood boiling.

Reyes calls out to him as Jesse rushes down the hallway. Jesse ignores it, doesn't even slow his gait, and takes the first diverging corridor he comes upon. He doesn't even know where he's going, just knows he needs to get far away from Reyes before he does something stupid.

One moment, he hears the thud of a pair of boots behind him, and the next, Jesse is jerked back by a strong grip on his bicep.

Before he can catch himself, Jesse's instincts have him turning into the person that's grabbed him, his fist already mid-arc.

He doesn't realize who it is until it's too late and there's nothing stopping his knuckles from colliding with the scarred skin of Reyes' cheek.

It takes several seconds for Jesse's brain to catch up with his actions, and he stands in stunned silence as he watches Reyes catch himself on the nearby wall.

"Holy shit," Jesse breathes, approaching Reyes with the caution one might use for a cornered animal. "Boss, I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

Reyes holds up a hand from where he's doubled over, one forearm being used to hold himself up against the wall. Jesse stays quiet, even as Reyes takes a deep breath, standing up straight as he gingerly tests the movement of his jaw.

"I think I deserved that," Reyes mumbles, delicately prodding at his cheekbone with two fingers.

Jesse bites at the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something coarse. Reyes takes another deep breath in.

"Jesse, I... I'm sorry," Reyes says, finally looking up at Jesse, a soft expression on his face. "I didn't find out about this until you did. I don't want you to doubt what you're doing here, but I don't have answers for how this happened. Ana and Reinhardt are helping me figure out how this information wasn't relayed to Blackwatch, but..." Reyes pauses, his eyes darting away from Jesse for a moment as he swipes his tongue between his lips. "I don't know any more than you do at this point, and I'm sorry I didn't let you know what was happening."

Reyes huffs out a sigh as he adjusts his stance, looking down at his feet briefly before locking Jesse with another intense gaze. Jesse coughs, having to look away for a moment, his chest becoming unbearably tight.

"I trust you, Jesse," Reyes says, "with my life. And, I don't want you to ever feel that your trust in me is misplaced. As soon as I know anything else about this situation; I will tell you."

Jesse is past the point of expecting various forms of physical retribution for his insubordination, but he certainly didn't expect his commander to _apologize to him_.

He doesn't know what else to do in the moment but nod, and he nearly leaps out of his skin when Reyes' hand lands on his shoulder.

Thankfully, Reyes doesn't comment on his reaction, just squeezes Jesse's shoulder briefly before turning on his heel and walking back the way they'd come. Jesse stays rooted to the spot for longer than he realizes, before finally walking off to the shooting range, an unfamiliar feeling settling in his gut that makes me simultaneously giddy and wary.

Jesse wishes he didn't know the name for the feeling.

 

* * *

 

A Blackwatch party is easily the dangerous party anyone can attend. The end of large ops are celebrated in whatever free space the agents can find. Sometimes that was a rec room, a cafeteria, and once they'd even monopolized a section of a hallway.

At these celebrations, there's always a nearly illegal amount of alcohol, music blasting in a wide range of languages, inappropriate dancing on various surfaces, and at least three knife throwing competitions.

Gabe sips at his drink as he watches Jesse arm-wrestle Otieno, from his position lounging on a loveseat in the quietest corner. Both look mere moments from giving in, while the agents surrounding them goad them on.

Jesse ends up losing. He accepts the defeat good-naturedly, playfully imitating a bowing-down motion as Otieno flexes theatrically. Gabe chuckles into his drink. Pereira begins instigating a second round between Otieno and Mike, and Gabe watches as Jesse swipes a drink from the table before making his way towards Gabe's loveseat.

Gabe belatedly shuffles over as Jesse flops himself down, landing partially on the couch with most of his limbs falling on Gabe.

"Ah, sorry," Jesse says, his drink still miraculously upright and un-spilled. Gabe sighs melodramatically as he adjusts his legs from where they're trapped beneath Jesse's, but doesn't remove them entirely. Any other time (with less alcohol in his system) Gabe would have dumped Jesse on the floor had he tried something like this.

Now, he simply settles in beneath the oddly comforting weight of Jesse's ridiculously long legs.

"You doin' ok there, Boss?" Jesse asks, hiding a goofy smile behind the rim of his glass.

"Hm?"

"You're kind of grinnin' all funny. Don't get me wrong; it's good to see you relaxin', but you look a little... out of it."

Gabe scoffs as he tries to calculate how many drinks he's had. Too many, was the likely answer, but surrounded by his agents, it was easy to let loose.

"Just a little drunk, McCree. That okay with you?" Gabe teases, prodding the top of Jesse's thigh with his free hand. (He tries not to think about the mass of muscle he could feel beneath his fingertips.)

"That's just fine with me, darlin',"

Gabe can feel the smile stretching across his face at the endearment, and there's a fluttery feeling starting up in his chest as he leans back into the arm of the loveseat while Jesse chatters away about a competition Fareeha had won the previous week.

It's later into the night, Callahan having come by the loveseat to grace them with fresh drinks after Pereira had attempted (and failed) to entice Jesse into another competition amongst the agents, and Gabe notices Jesse beginning to nod off.

It's near the third time Jesse nearly spills his drink that Gabe snatches the cup from Jesse's grip before standing up, jerking Jesse awake as Gabe slides out from beneath his legs.

"Alright, time for bed, cowboy," Gabe says, placing their drinks on an end table before hefting Jesse into a standing position. Jesse grumbles, half-drunk half-asleep, into Gabe's shoulder as he leans against him. Gabe sighs good-naturedly, circling his arm around Jesse's waist. "C'mon, beanstalk, I got you."

Jesse mumbles something about "not a vegetable", but Gabe can't quite make it out from where it's being muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Gabe shoots out a coverall "good night" to the remaining agents at the party, Jesse waving half-heartedly over his shoulder. When the door closes behind them, Jesse seems to wake up a bit more, legs shuffling with purpose beside Gabe's own. The hallways are dimly lit and quiet, but the warm weight of Jesse by his side makes the walk to the dorms pass quickly.

They pause momentarily while Jesse tries to recall which room is his own. Jesse mumbles some words that resemble gratitude against Gabe's shoulder blades as Gabe works to open Jesse's door without a light.

They stumble into Jesse's room, Gabe bypassing the light switch in favor of dumping Jesse onto his mattress. He goes back to flip on the light and close the door, and when he turns around, Jesse is curled onto his side, boots and hat still on.

"Jess, c'mon, you can't sleep like this," Gabe whispers. Jesse reaches out a hand to pat at Gabe's face blindly.

"'M good."

"I'm taking your boots off," Gabe says. Jesse starts up a high-pitched whine but doesn't fight against Gabe as he grips Jesse's calves one at a time, sliding his boots off quickly. Gabe sets them by the foot of the bed before plucking Jesse's hat and setting that on top of the shoes. "You can decide if you want to sleep in your jeans or not. I'll leave that up to you."

Gabe starts back towards the light switch.

"G'be?"

Gabe sighs, but moves back to the side of the bed, waiting for Jesse to say what else he needed Gabe for. Jesse motions for him to come closer. Gabe rolls his eyes but acquiesces, bending over Jesse's form.

It doesn't happen quickly, Jesse's limbs sluggish with alcohol and sleep, and Gabe is still too tipsy himself to resist it, so when Jesse pulls him close, one hand gripped in the front of Gabe's shirt, Gabe barely manages to catch himself with one hand on the bed. Jesse yanks him the rest of the way down, kissing Gabe in one fluid motion before turning back onto his side, ruffling Gabe's shorn head.

"Th'nks," Jesse mutters into his pillow, hands coming up to tuck underneath his chin.

Gabe manages to recover quickly, only stunned for a few seconds before he's hefting himself up, letting himself out of Jesse's quarters without a sound.

Once the door is closed behind him, Gabe takes a deep breath as he wills his heart to quiet. He begins making his way back to his own room, determined to hide beneath his sheets for the next week, suddenly much too sober and far too aware of what that fluttery feeling from earlier had been.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://auricale.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](http://twitter.com/electric_god)


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